


The Chocolate Thief

by Karis_Artemisia_Judith



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/M, I don't know how I could be more clear, Semi-Public Sex, Sex and Chocolate, Shameless Smut, Wall Sex, basically sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 19:31:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1953405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karis_Artemisia_Judith/pseuds/Karis_Artemisia_Judith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anna has snuck away from the ball, and she's taken all of the chocolate with her...whatever will Kristoff do about it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Chocolate Thief

**Author's Note:**

> Kristanna Smut Week, Prompt 6: Don’t get caught

Kristoff looked from the empty tray to Anna’s face, her freckled cheeks full and round. Big blue eyes flickered guiltily from side to side for a moment, then she swallowed hard, licking her lips. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“ _Really_ , princess.”

 

“Hi?” she said.

He stepped into the room, closing the door, and the noise from the ballroom became a dull roar instead of a cacophony. “I thought you were going to get some air.”

"I did. I tried. But that duchess was there— _you_  know. And she wouldn’t stop talking at me, and she kept bringing up babies, and saying these really pointed things, and it took forever for me to get away, and I just…I just wanted some chocolate.” She shrugged defensively.

"I think you had more than  _some_ ,” he said dryly.

"The tray wasn’t  _full_ ,” Anna huffed. “And really it’s  _my_  chocolate, because it’s my party.” He glanced down at her fingers, which were smeared liberally with the evidence of her thievery—the tray had been left too close to the fire and the truffles had been soft and gooey, just the way she liked them, but they  _did_  make a mess. Anna blushed and began to fumble with her other hand for her handkerchief.

Kristoff stepped closer, shaking his head. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you that good girls share?”

"It’s my birthday, I don’t have to share if I don’t want to," she said, backing up and bumping into the table. Kristoff was looming over her, and he knew it. Anna felt herself start to blush even more, and not out of embarrassment.

“You,” he said, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear, “are a naughty girl.”

“I am not,” she said with dignity, finally producing a square of linen from her pocket. “I’m a princess, it’s very different.”

He caught her wrist. “Then you’re a very naughty princess.” The dark rumble of his voice made Anna’s knees go weak and she caught at the edge of the table with her free hand, the handkerchief fluttering to the floor.

“Hey! That’s not f—“ She gasped as he drew her hand to his lips, his tongue flicked over the web between two of her fingers. “Fair,” she finished in a whisper.

Kristoff didn’t answer. Instead he kept a firm hold on her wrist and slowly dragged his tongue over her palm. Anna made a sound that was just barely audible over the buzz of noise from the next room, and he smiled against her hand. He began licking the chocolate from her fingers, drawing each one into his mouth and suckling gently on her fingertips before moving back down to draw circles with his tongue on her palm. His teeth nipped gently at the base of her thumb, his lips sucked lightly at the pulse point in her wrist, and all the while his gaze was on Anna’s face. She knew he could see what he was doing to her, making her face flush and her lips part, and she could seek the smirk of satisfaction in his brown eyes, that he could make her breathless while hardly touching her.

Her fingers thoroughly cleaned, Kristoff let go of her wrist and bent over her. He pressed one brief, hard kiss to her mouth, his tongue flickering out to swipe the last touch of chocolate from her lips, but he stepped back before she even had time to respond. Lifting an eyebrow at her mutinous expression, he offered Anna his arm.

"Are you ready to go back to the ball, princess?"

Anna glanced at his arm, and then lower, taking in the close, tailored fit of his trousers over his trim hips, and the hard outline between them that the snug fabric revealed.

"Nope," she said, and grabbed his arm, using it to push him back against the wall. He let her—she always knew that he was  _letting_ her, when she manhandled him, because she wouldn’t be able to make him move an inch if he didn’t, but Anna felt a surge of power just the same. After all, he _wanted_  to let her. That was a power that didn’t need physical strength, which was just as well because it meant Anna was able to tug open his trousers before he thought to restrain her.

“ _Anna_.”

She smirked, her fingers curled around warm flesh that was already half hard, and rapidly stiffening further under the hand that he had made slick with his mouth. She could make him breathless, too.

Kristoff’s head fell back against the wall and he groaned as she slid her fist over him, her small hand squeezing and stroking. Anna leaned into him, standing on tiptoe to press her lips to his neck while the silky skin of his cock moved under her hand. She earned a ragged gasp when her fingers slid over the reddened tip, collecting the sticky drops that gathered there. Anna waited for him to open glazed eyes and look down at her before she smiled at him through her lashes and licked her fingers.

"Are  _you_  ready to go back to the ball?”

He pushed away from the wall with a faint growl as he reached for her. Kristoff caught her jaw in his hand, pressing her chin up with gentle pressure so that he could kiss her. “You,” he said raggedly, “really  _are_  naughty, princess.”

Anna hummed in agreement against his lips. “Mmhm. What,” she managed in between relentless kisses, “what are you—mm—going to do about it?”

It didn’t take him long to decide. Not long at all. He kissed her deeply, tugging gently at her lower lip, then he bent his head to press his mouth to her neck, her shoulder, his tongue tracing delicately over her skin as if she were the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. His hands stroked over her, the touch muted by the layers of stiff clothing to a warm pressure. Anna sighed, rubbing her hands over his shirtfront, wishing she could peel it off of him to feel his skin. She fumbled for the hem, loosened when she’d opened his trousers, and stroked her fingers over his stomach.

“ _Anna.”_

He picked her up, roughly shoving layers of skirt out of the way so that she could wrap her legs around his hips, and pinned her back against the wall. No—not the wall. Against the door that led back into the ballroom.

“Kristoff,” she hissed, then gasped as his fingers touched her, spreading her open for him. “Kristoff, someone will hear.”

“So be quiet.” He supported her backside with one hand, using the other to guide himself into her, thumb swiping roughly over her clit at he pressed into her soft, slick folds. Anna yelped, her head jerking back and hitting the door with a hollow thump. She stiffened, clutching at his shoulders anxiously.

“Kristoff—“

He went still, the tip of him resting just inside her, his hands gripping her thighs. His eyes studied her face. “Do you want me to stop?”

If she said it, he would stop, no matter what. Anna knew that. She’d almost never said it, but on one of the few occasions he’d frozen over her, on the very brink of climax, and had waited for her to tell him what was wrong. That time her cry had been an unthinking reaction to a sudden leg cramp, however, and not to a ballroom full of people.

Anna closed her eyes, wondering if Kristoff could feel the throbbing that ached between her legs where he touched her, like a heartbeat of desire. He could certainly feel how wet she was, how warm and slick his touch had made her, and Anna realized that if he moved at all he would be making her decision for her, because she wouldn’t be able to resist him. But he didn’t so much as twitch—he only held her steady and waited, watching her. In the end he did make her decision for her, indirectly, because Anna decided that being desired by such a man and not taking advantage of it at every opportunity was a wasteful sin. Besides—she bit back a whimper as she rocked her hips against him—she wanted him.

Kristoff’s eyes slid closed as she moved, but he opened them again to look at her. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Anna said. “Yes, I—“ she gasped as he thrust hard into her, filling her. “Just don’t let me scream,” she managed to say. He complied, muffling her moans and throaty whimpers with his mouth on hers, hungry kisses devouring her. Anna clung to his shoulders, her legs tight around his waist, her body shuddering as he shifted, stroking over a sensitive spot inside of her that made sparks flash behind her fluttering eyelids. A sob was building up into a wail in her chest, and when Kristoff bent to press his lips to her neck he also pressed his hand to her mouth, muffling the needy sounds that his burning touch forced out of her.

Her lips parted, Anna nipped at his hand with her teeth and stroked it with her tongue, her own hands clenched tight against his shoulders and in his hair. Her body was tense, a tight coil of sensation at the center of her that twisted deeper and deeper as she felt Kristoff’s rough, hot breath on her neck, his strong hand supporting her thigh, his hips driving into hers. She heard him groan, knew that he was struggling to hold back, and Anna reached down past the froth of petticoats around them to press her trembling fingers to the sensitive point above the place where his body joined with hers. It only took a moment for her hips to jerk, her back arching against the door, and Kristoff gasped with relief, his hand dropping from her mouth and holding her too him as he gave in to his own need.

Anna’s head lolled back against the door as Kristoff’s cheek pressed against her chest, small aftershocks shaking both of them, their breathing ragged.

 “Hello? Is someone in there?” The doorknob rattled, but Kristoff leaned his whole weight against the door, pinning it shut. “Must be locked,” the voice muttered. “But I was so sure I heard someone calling. Hello?” There was a long pause. Anna tried not to breath, her face scarlet. She recognized the voice. Of all people, it had to be the bishop. At last they heard footsteps moving away, and Kristoff relaxed.

“That was close,” Anna said.

He grinned at her. “Worth it?”

“Mmhm.” She leaned up to kiss him. “Definitely worth it.”

He stepped back from the door, setting her on her feet carefully. Her legs wobbled and he had to steady her for a moment. Anna poked him when she saw his smirk. “Don’t look so pleased with yourself, Bjorgman,  _you_  wanted to go back to the ball.”

"No, I didn’t," he said, and bent to kiss her. "Happy birthday."

They straightened clothing hastily, Kristoff brushing the wrinkles out of Anna’s skirt while she combed her fingers through his ruffled hair, and when a flustered footman opened the door a few minutes later he found nothing more shocking than the princess and her consort, both looking guiltily at an empty dessert tray.


End file.
